


A Taste For Creatures of Loyalty

by NimWallace



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, They get a dog, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimWallace/pseuds/NimWallace
Summary: In which Watson comes home with a puppy.





	A Taste For Creatures of Loyalty

“Watson, it seems you are failing to recall what befall our last dog,” Holmes said, barely glancing in John's direction lest he weaken.   
“You poisoned it,” Watson pointed out sharply. “If you _don't_ poison this one, she should be fine.”   
The red cocker spaniel squirmed fitfully in his arms, trying to reach his face to lick it.   
“Dogs take _work_ , Watson. They need walks and cleaning up after—“   
“I will do the cleaning up, and besides, you love walks! And dogs!”   
This was true, he had always loved dogs. He placed them to be one of the creatures closest to imitating human sentience and intelligence—they were also very useful in many fields.   
This puppy was one Watson had picked up down the street where Mrs Turner had an unexpected litter.   
“Just come look at her, Holmes!” Watson pleaded.   
Holmes sighed and stood, then looked at the little red pup squiggling in Watson's arms. She looked up at him with big, round brown eyes—literal puppy eyes.   
He could not resist the urge to reach out and pet her.   
“She likes you, see!” Watson exclaimed in child-like delight. “Please, Sherlock.”   
Holmes sighed, scratching the spaniel's ear.   
“Using my own name to soften me? A low blow for you, eh John?” He smirked. “All right, I will admit I like the dog. But she mustn't get into my things, or we will have a _second_ poisoned canine.”   
John grinned.   
“She won't,” he said cheerfully. “What shall we name her?”   
“Oh, does it matter?”   
“How about Beecher?”   
“Beecher?”   
“After him.” He jerked his had at the picture of Henry Beecher adorning their wall. Holmes smiled.   
“Noble. Fitting, I'd say.”   
“Then that it shall be.”   
  
  


 


End file.
